Poem

Tuesdays Paul comes by. He jogs up the driveway in his striped green shortsand I’m there at the door with Ella on my hip. She’s crying, she’s teethingand drooling and crying from the pain, and some d More

He seldom spoke, even when well, and when he did it was misterioso, brief,a gnomic shorthand, often only a grunt,but his musicians got it, Nellie, Boo-Boo, and Sphere III too.Nowadays next to nothing More

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